


The Perfect Score

by useyourlove



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-07
Updated: 2011-12-07
Packaged: 2017-10-27 00:56:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/289806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/useyourlove/pseuds/useyourlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kara finds Lee moping in the Pegasus flight simulators and tries to jolt him into giving a damn.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Perfect Score

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [the-applecart](http://the-applecart.livejournal.com), [Challenge 001](http://the-applecart.livejournal.com/1079.html). [Also posted on LJ at wartytoads](http://wartytoads.livejournal.com/8014.html). I'm not entirely happy with this, but it is what it is. Prompts were "private instruction" and "Pegasus simulators." I'm also fairly convinced that Lee Adama has serious issues with depression from "Resurrection Ship, Part 2" onward and that he regularly and successfully hides them. Welcome to the angst party.

"Woah, Lee, what the frak!"

She rushed forward dropping her paperwork all over the sim-room floor and grabbed the stick, covering his hand with both of hers. She pulled him out of the dive, her whole body thrown behind the movement, wrenching him so hard that the simulated G's nearly bucked her off the machine. Her hair brushed against his face and he was pulled out of his stupor.

"Hey," he said, surprised to find her suddenly beside him. He had been lost in thought.

"'Hey?' What the frak are you doing on my flight sim?"

He just shrugged. His shoulders sagged. His eyes had that dead haunted look that terrified her. She didn't take her hands off of his. The sim Viper was flying level now, but was surrounded by Cylons.

"Lee?" she wanted to brush her hand over his forehead, press her fingers into his skin and rest them there like her father used to do whenever she was morose. Then he would flick her between the eyes and say she was too warm to act like a corpse. She just kept her hands on top of his. She thought she felt him shaking. "You, uh... you get rusty on me?"

"Hm?" He felt like he was hearing her through water.

"Going into a dive like that. You losing your edge?"

"Sorry," he said shaking his head slightly. "Sorry, I just..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sure you have some trainees. I'll go."

She keyed in her instructor code to pause the sim and put a hand on his shoulder, pressing him back against the seat to look him in the eye, the worry so evident on her face that it was enough to make him shake himself back to the surface.

"Stay," she said, voice soft. "I'll have your ass in shape in no time," she added with a smirk.

He settled back against the Viper seat, trying to relax.

"Sorry," he said again. "It's just... I come down here sometimes when everyone's asleep. I miss it, you know? Gods, I never thought I'd say I missed anything about it. But I miss flying."

She smiled sympathetically. "Here," she said, letting go of him and swinging herself into the simulator. She sat down on his lap facing the screen, straddling his thighs. Viper seats weren't exactly made to fit two people. She settled in against him, her back flush with his chest. He nuzzled his nose into her neck without having to think about it. She smelled like astringent military issue soap and some kind of shampoo that she'd been rationing since the beginning of all this. It made him think of home, and Caprica, and Galactica, and days when the two of them had been all smiles in the sunshine and stolen touches in the night. He let go of the controls, wrapping his arms around her middle and holding her tightly.

"Nuh-uh, Apollo," she said, even as she rested her hands on his forearms and gave them a pat. "Hands at the ready. Any reason you were running Starbuck's Course of Instant Death?"

His voice was muffled against her skin, but it reverberated through her body. "Others were too easy." She felt his lips, warm and wet against her, and she suppressed a shiver.

"Do you just come down here to die?"

It was half a joke, but she said it too quietly for him not to take it seriously. And suddenly he felt ashamed of himself. Ashamed of his behavior and the way he made her worry. He felt self-indulgent and childish and couldn't _actually_ bring himself to care that much. He was just going through the motions. He had been for weeks. Months. Whatever came easiest to him he took. Whatever was in front of him he accepted. He had no fight left in him and confronted with Starbuck--so alive and fighting they'd named her for it--that made him feel ashamed. He took a deep breath, letting the scent of her wash through him, and he thought--for just a moment--that maybe he wanted to be alive.

"Hands on your controls, Adama," she said, using her best Flight Instructor voice. He felt his arms twitch, compelled by her tone, but he resisted, wrapping them tighter around her waist. "Ok. Or not. Lee, frak, I can't breathe." He let up on her a little. "Make you a deal?"

"What?" he mumbled against her shoulder.

"You do the pedals and I'll take the wheel."

He grunted noncommittally.

She took the Viper controls in hand, keyed in her code again, and the sim started back up.

Lee could hear her shooting at things. Her muscles tensed and relaxed against him. She squirmed in his lap, arching and twisting. He felt sudden envy for her Viper. It had Kara Thrace on a regular basis.

"Right thruster full, Lee! Now, now, now!"

He was startled by the sharpness of her voice, jumping to attention, his eyes finally opening to focus on the screen where they were already going down in a blaze of glorious fire.

She slumped her shoulders, hands limp on his thighs like she'd lost a video game. She clucked her annoyance. Then she was in motion all at once, smacking his thigh hard and he jumped.

"Ow!"

She twisted around until they were face to face. Suddenly confronted with her irritation, her vibrancy, her proximity, everything else that was so Kara, he realized both just how turned on he was and just how much he wanted to prove to her that he could do this. He was all right. He was _Apollo_. He could run her gods-damned personal obstacle course just as well as she could, even with her squirming in his lap. He was tempted to tell her to get the frak off and watch how it was done. But then she wrapped her hand in the collar of his tanks and pulled his face closer to hers.

"What the _frak_ was that?"

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Sorry doesn't cut it anymore." She pointed at the sim screen behind them, still flaring with the fire of the simulated explosion that would have killed them both instantly. "You want that to happen to yourself? To me? You want to burn up in a fireball like some frakkin' martyr to your own frakked up life? Is that what you want?" She punctuated the last question with a hard shake that snapped his head backwards, her eyes wide and wild.

"No, ow! No, Kara. Calm down." He rested his hand over her fist, trying to calm her. But he knew that he'd scared her. Scared her one too many times. He'd taken to doing that lately--not caring who died, even if it was himself. Not caring who he sent out or what he ordered them to do. If there was one thing Kara Thrace could never stand it was apathy--especially from him. He'd learned that a long time ago.

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. They were nose to nose, now, their combined body heat making them sweat in the semi-enclosed space of the simulator. She just sat there like that for a long time. Quiet. Composed. He wondered when their roles had reversed. He ran his thumb in small circles against her belly.

"I used to try and kick your ass at the Academy, you know," she said finally. "I didn't even know who you were. Just L. Adama on every gods-damned machine. I would stay in the sims until I'd taken out every single one of your scores. Took me three weeks on the advanced battle tactics run, and I skipped my last exam just to drop your name to second place before I graduated. But I got it."

His brow furrowed. It all seemed like a different world. A different lifetime even. A complete non sequitur. He was suddenly confused by why she felt the need to tell him. He finally found his voice. "I got lucky on that one. Scored--"

"Nearly perfect," she breathed, nodding, her forehead bumping against his and staying there. The scent of her in such a small space was overpowering and he found himself praying that nobody decided they wanted a late night run on the simulators. He knew where he wanted this to go. "I know. I took you down with a perfect score."

He jolted backwards. "You--"

Her grin was wicked. He could see in her face that he'd reacted exactly as she wanted him to. He wanted to kick her ass now, just to prove that he could. She clapped her hands over his arms twice and then twirled back around, dragging his hands to the Viper controls.

"We are going to run this frakkin' sim together, Adama. And we are going to run it until we get a perfect score. You hear me, nugget?"

He cleared his throat, trying not to laugh, itching to take her down even as he reveled in the prospect of combining forces. "Yes, sir!"

"I'll teach you tricks you've only ever dreamed of pulling off, Apollo. Now get your ass in gear!"

"Sir!"

He sat up straighter, feet at the ready, hands on the controls. Her legs ran flush down his, twining around at their ankles to place her feet on the pedals. She had to sink down just slightly to reach, her head resting against his chest like they were watching a Saturday night movie on the couch. He wanted to kiss her hair like he had that night...

Her hands wrapped around his on the controls. It was the strangest feeling for both of them--so incredibly wrong and yet so right all at once. They worked like two fitted cogs in a well-oiled machine when they flew together in separate birds. Flying the same machine with another person was something neither of them had ever experienced before.

They ran the sim, motions in tandem. Occasionally one would fly out ahead of the other's reflexes, reacting more quickly to one part of the sim or another. The other would catch on quickly enough that the Viper flew without a hitch. It was a nearly impossible course with some fairly intense random elements, and Lee found himself wondering if even Starbuck could run the thing without dying on a regular basis. It was damn good for keeping you sharp--he had to give her that.

They twisted together, twirled together, writhed together. She flooded his senses. He tried not to moan against her. He tried to stay concentrated on the battle, on the task at hand, but that just made his arousal worse. He knew that she could feel his erection digging into her back. He suspected a few of her rolls were a little less for defense and a little more for torturing Lee Adama.

It took them three runs before they got it. But they finally got it.

She let out a cheer that echoed through the empty room, jetting out of his lap and standing splay legged above him, arm raised up to the ceiling.

"YEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!!!"

She twisted around to look at him, his own face ecstatic, drenched in sweat, breathless and high on adrenaline and the feel of her body. She turned, still laughing and calling out to her own echoes, kneeling with one knee on either side of him, her hands resting on his shoulders.

She threw back her head and gave another long triumphant scream.

His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to him. His lips tasted the curve of her jaw, his teeth scraping at the bone. She gasped, arms going around his neck and pulling him tighter.

"Oh."

He rolled his hips up to meet hers and she ground back on him. He could feel the heat of her, even through their layers of clothing. He moaned against her salty skin and pulled back, cupping her head in his hand and leaning into her mouth. Their tongues slid across each other, lapping greedily, consuming them like the flames from the sim explosion that had started this all.

Her hands tugged greedily at his tanks until she could grab the bottom and strip them over his head. She tossed them off into the darkness of the room and her hot fingers trailed up his stomach to rest on his chest. His own hands fumbled with the buttons of her duty blues, shoving at the cloth until it slid off her arms and he could press his thumbs into her bare skin.

"You catch on quick, nugget," she laughed, still enjoying the joke. He dove in again, capturing her lips with his, suckling. He felt her hands playing over his shoulders, through his hair. He felt as if he were floating. He felt as if he were flying.

He laughed softly against her lips. "You know Adama boys learn fast."

She stiffened in his arms. Oh frak. Oh frak, oh frak, oh frak. She sat back on his knees, studying him, her eyes suddenly dark wells of hurt. Of guilt. Of confusion. Of so many other things he didn't even want to think about. And then they closed off to him and she looked away, mouth set. He'd hit some kind of nerve that he hadn't even known was raw and he felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him that perhaps what they had just done was an echo of something Kara had done before.

She stood, grabbing her jacket off the console behind them and sliding it onto her shoulders. He caught her wrist as she made to leave but let go when her glare cut him like a laser. She stepped out of the sim, stretching her neck and bending to shuffle her papers back into a pile.

"Kara--"

She held up one finger to silence him, her eyes closed as if praying. "Don't," she said.

She paused at the doorway, illuminated by the light of the hall behind her. "Sorry," she said, so softly he barely caught the word.

He turned back to the flaring banners and brilliant confetti of the sim screen, disgusted with himself, aghast at everything that had happened--that _kept_ happening. If only he could keep his frakking mouth shut. If only he could just open it at the right times. If only... if only... if _only_.

"Frak!" he kicked the console once, twice, with his booted foot and then let his head rest in his hands. He rubbed at his eyes, suddenly world worn and weary once more. He felt like jumping off a cliff. He felt like throwing himself out the nearest airlock. He felt like going down in a flaming gleam over the cities of Caprica that he would never see again.

He leaned forward and reset the sim, knuckles gripping white on the controls as he headed into a dive.


End file.
